Eternals of the sea

Overview

The magicians of the Sarcophan Delves, as a sea-faring folk, commonly deal with eternals that share their interests.

Following an arrangement brokered with the Sarcophan Delves, the Minister of Historical Research Watt Lambrook of the Marches commissioned the Department of Historical Research to send a scholar to the Delves to learn what their experts knew about eternals specifically associated with the sea. Snowstorm Henk boarded a vessel at Crown's Quay and spent the better part of nine months as a guest of the scholars and magicians of the Delves. Their report was eventually provided to the Minister at the Summer Solstice 388YE - overdue but at least thickly detailed. Originally intended to uncover information about Khobel Tavah, the remit expanded significantly while Henk was in the Delves.

It coincidentally arrived at the same time that the Imperial prognosticator Lisane de Terresford was delivering the first part of her appraisal discussing attitudes to eternals in the Sumaah Republic, which also referenced several eternals that seem to be unknown in the Empire.

Presented as something of a travelogue, as is often the case with Snowstorm Henk, it also provides some insight into Sarcophan attitudes to the realms in general, and additional information about eternals not directly related to the sea.

Introduction

Watt of Lambrook, Minister of Historical Research

The trip across the seas was a little longer than I had expected, but proved mostly uneventful. I was not entirely prepared for just how many sharks there are in the Sea of Teeth, but the Freeborn sailors did their best to hide their amusement at my reaction. I explained several times that we have no sharks in Skarsind and that just seemed to amuse them even more. I was also a little taken aback at the sheer size of Sarcophan. It is a city to rival Sarvos and Tassato both together, a confusing melange of ancient and brand new, without any suggestion of a plan or scheme. Towers and bridges and halls and tombs all hodgepodge together like a box of building bricks upended with little rhyme or reason.

I met with Bedelaar Huisbaas Annike only briefly; she welcomed me to the Delves and reassured me that there were several local covens, as well as individual magicians and scholars who made a study of the eternals, eager to meet me. Helpfully, she had arranged a select gathering for the very next afternoon in which I was able to meet with what amounted to the cream of Sarcophan realms studies. I shan't bore you with details but I was a little heartened to find that they were for the most part as earnest, opinionated, argumentative, and downright peculiar as their peers at home. There was a definite split, however, between those who made a particular academic study of the realms and those who dealt directly with eternals and heralds as part of their professional lives. As always, there is a gulf between the theoretical and the practical, but where possible I shall attempt to synthesise the two approaches.

Before I begin there is one set of eternals that I have not spent much time exploring in the Delves. Many of the Hierarchs of Sea and Sky have an association with the sea that seems to be much more metaphorical than literal. Leviathan, Zakalwe, Roshanwe, and even Ylenwe have a tie to the idea of the sea but are not themselves eternals of the sea, if you follow my reasoning. With the exception of Roshanwe, they are not especially involved with the Delves, and even there it is the seeking-distant-ports resonances of Beachcomber that they are more interested in. I focused my attention a little more closely on those eternals I felt that the Empire as a whole had least experience with, and I hope that I am not out of line by doing so.

A Sarcophan View

The Esatolian Taxonomy groups eternals not by realm, but by function.

One of the more surprising things that arose during this research is that the Sarcophan view of the realms and the eternals is fundamentally different to that of the Empire. Of course, the six realms exist - that is just a matter of fact. However, the Sarcophan do not classify the eternals primarily by realm. Instead, the classification of the eternals is a broad taxonomy based primarily on common functions, with the classification by realm a secondary factor. The name for the study of such matters in Sarcophan is "De taxonomie van magische bestuurders", and an expert is known as a taxanoom. Being a taxanoom is considered a somewhat difficult but respectable profession. Most magicians in the Delves are not taxanoom: they might deal a little with specific eternals, but they don't make it their business to know all of them. A taxonoom is generally consulted for specialist advice when it is believed a project calls for it: the ritual magic they practice is apparently not unlike goetia, but with a legalistic and bureaucratic formulation.

The full taxonomie is quite broad and contains multiple factors which are debated amongst scholars of the art. "Eternals of the Sea" is one of the clearest ways in which eternals can be classified, but other examples include "Eternals who are Sovereign Rulers" and "Eternals who are Magicians". The Sarcophan believe that in fact it's in the nuances between the realms that you find within these broad themes that you gain the most insight: in contrast they don't really think it's useful to think about the ways that eternals of the same realm relate to each other (with a few special-case exceptions).

The Sarcophan believe a working knowledge of taxonomy to be the only firm foundation for successful trade with eternals. Despite this, there are dozens of competing taxonomies put forward by rival scholars, each of which offers competing classifications. Some of these works include all the known powers, while others have gaps or classify only a handful of eternals. In fact, there are so many different taxonomy, that the Sarcophan have created a classification system for them.

The Esatolian Taxonomy, is one of the more popular systems of classifications, and one of the first that many aspiring magicians learn. It is "complete" in the sense that it contains all the eternals that the Sarcophan commonly trade with. It is singular, which means that each eternal is assigned to a single taxonomy, and economic, which means eternals are presented in order of the most profitable to trade with, rather than by their assessed power. I have included it here as it one of the easiest to understand and use.

Regent of the Eternal Sea

Rhinaos, Regent of the Eternal Sea, is a spirit of adventure - but also risk and recklessness.

I spent a very enjoyable week with the Haaienvermijders, a Sarcophan magical cabal familiar to some Imperial magicians. It did not cease to entertain me that their name literally translates into Imperial as "Shark Dodgers". They live up to their name - a jovial coven whose members compose a small trading guild - although I will confess I was a little surprised to discover that these adepts of Summer and Night magic were almost entirely of the briar lineage. Of course the Spring-touched are common in the Delves - the blessings of their heritage help them endure the various problems related to living in what amounts to a plague-haunted swamp with towers in it - but it struck me as a little surprising to imagine such an enterprisingly entrepreneurial endeavour being run entirely by briar folk. I confess this led to a little introspective soul-searching that is beyond the remit of my researches.

Among the Shark Dodgers, I was regaled by multiple stories relating to the Golden Voyage - the popular ritual developed from the pioneering work of Andreas i Sol-Devorador i Erigo of the Krakenfire Armada - some of which seemed outlandish even for that particular magical rite. This turned out to be more relevant than I at first anticipated, however. Since the exchange of rituals - Muffled Oar for Golden Voyage - the Shark Dodgers have sought out a closer relationship with the Regent of the Eternal Sea who finds a certain appeal in that particular enchantment.

Rhianos - the eternal has as many names in the Delves as they do in the Empire - has reasonably close ties with the magicians of the Sarcophan Delves. While the Delves are best known for their trading empire, there are always venturous souls among them who seek out both new ports and new opportunities for personal enrichment. Rhianos rarely leads them astray in that regard, for all that the eternal themselves is unconcerned with "profit" in a purely pecuniary sense. Rather, the "spirit of adventure" helps them find uncharted waters, lost islands, strange beasts with valuable teeth, and fog-shrouded smugglers ports with equal ease.

According to the Haaienvermijders, more than one Bedelaar Huisbaas through the history of the Delves has managed a lucky find inspired by Rhianos into a personal fortune. As a consequence, Rhianos is seen as a patron of the young and the reckless - those who have yet to make their mark in society prepared to risk all for the chance to shine - and more established individuals and concerns politely decline their gifts. This doesn't seem to worry Foamfollower, and does nothing to tarnish his reputation among the mariners of the Delves.

The Shark Dodgers mention a spell relatively well known among the magewrights of the docks and quays called Where Kraken Lie provided by Rhianos that functions in a manner similar to Golden Voyage but is a little less potent, and bears with it an assurance relating to how the enchantment can be purchased. Magicians are not allowed to charge for the service, but must instead agree to take shares of any treasure the adventurous sailor acquires, which again makes it more appealing to the less wealthy segments of society.

Sailor on the Skerries

Dathan is a creature of wonder and imagination, a bringer of joy and reverie.

The Haaienvermijders also spoke at some length about the eternals of the Night realm with an interest in the sea. They mentioned as a matter of course that they had good relations with the Brother of Seaserpents - Sadogua - but agreed that while he was always prepared to offer aid with the performing of maritime magic he wasn't actually any good at the rituals themselves. They were a little reticent to discuss the codification of Muffled Oar, and the involvement of the Jolly Patron in that endeavour, instead preferring to change the subject. I was happy to let them do so - particularly because what they most wanted to talk about was Dathan, the Regent of the Skerries of Dream.

The name Dathan comes from the inscription on a statue found in the time between the flight of those who would become the Highborn and the consolidation of the Delves into its modern form. There has been more discussion of this period in the previous research project Origins of the Highborn especially where it talks about the fall of the Umshalla.

The statue is still preserved, standing over the Stergozocht, a relatively poverty-stricken neighbourhood not far from the wealthy Betovering docks. From the waist up it depicts a young human person with arms raised - although the left arm has broken off halfway between shoulder and elbow - one hand cupped as if to catch water and funnel it into a basin before the figure. Due to the missing arm, apparently the water just splashes every which way in modern times. From the waist down, however, they have a much more serpentine form. Not a snake as such - there are a few surviving fin-like structures along the length of the tail which coils round and round beneath the body giving an almost pyramidal base to the entire sculpture.

Most of the old stone fins have been broken off - my guide mentioned a little grumpily that some sailors believed that the fins would bring luck when travelling at sea and were stolen centuries ago. The words on the dais were cut deep, and plainly readable as "Dathan", although whatever else was carved there had long since been erased by the passage of years.

The things that stuck with me most about the statue were its size - it was several times as tall as I was even allowing for the raised dais on which it stood; the obvious fine quality of the sculpture despite its somewhat reduced state; and the face, turned toward the far horizon. Most of the features were gone, worn smooth by time, but there was something about its almost-human proportions that made me certain the visage was smiling a gentle smile of joy, and excitement, and yearning for... something.

My guide also pointed to the areas around the base of the things coils that had been worn smooth over time, she said, by young or desperate sailors touching it for luck, a tradition that continued to this day.

Back in the pleasant offices of the Haaienvermijders we discussed the eternal in more detail. As with many such creatures, especially in the realm of Night, Dathan has a host of subsidiary names. The most common is Fisher of the Reefs of Night - my hosts got a good laugh out of my attempts to pronounce the name in the Sarcophan language but quickly took pity on me and used Imperial translations from that point onward. They are also known as Sailor on the Skerries, Wonderwove, Hypnopheus, Wind of Reverie, Saltsong, Light in the Deep and, interestingly, Star of the Seventh Sea and The Shoals of the Star-filled Sky. Dathan is not their truest name, but the one that many sailors and mariners of the Delves know them by. The Haaienvermijders were a little surprised that I was unfamiliar with them, but were not slow to fill in further details.

The statue - a youth with the lower body of a marine serpent - is only one form taken by the traditionally mercurial Night eternal. The Haaienvermijders spoke of them, or their heralds, taking on the form of a clever rainbow octopus, a drifting jellyfish like creature that glowed with an inner radiance, a small but brightly coloured fish like none seen in the sea, or as a humanoid figure with multicoloured, scaled skin, and a great rainbow robe with trailing sleeves and a deep hood. Regardless of how they or their children appear, though, it is almost always in the context of a sailor, or a creature of the sea.

They exemplify the wonder and excitement of putting to sea, of exploring the strange and unfamiliar, but not simply in the pure practical sense. Dathan speaks of the mortal mind as an ocean - that each human (and presumably orc) has a realm as large as the whole of Night within their head. This is a metaphor, but also a "great truth" apparently. Before anything new can come into the world it must first be dreamed, and then made real. Dreams are where mortals are most free, and able to pass beyond the constraints of their bodies. Awe and joy are the truest emotions of the mortal heart because they are inspired by seeing beautiful, wondrous things or having profound experiences that cause the mind and spirit to grow and spread wings. The desire to expand one's experiences, to seek out new and marvellous things, was the most important drive of all and created a wake - a path - of stars that allowed mortals to make the world outside their heads as amazing as the one within.

The connection with stars, incidentally, attracted my attention but apparently has little to do with astronomancy - rather it is the idea of the stars of the night sky and not the constellations that Dathan represents, the allure and beauty and wonder of the little specks of light scattered across the sable shawl of the skies.

There was a great deal more of this kind of thing, but I was able to distil it down a little. Dathan is a serpent - like Sung or Lashonar. Rather than having wings, however, they have great wing-like fins that allow them to move freely through the water that is their domain. Their demesne is a shallow sea sometimes called the Skerries of Dream that is full of wonders and beauty and which mortals can occasionally visit in their dreams through some mechanism. As well as having a close tie to the sea as a source of awe and joy, they are closely tied to the idea of dreams, imagination, inspiration, wonder, and the drive to expand horizons and experience new things. They also have some connection to the idea of "treasure" - especially natural wonders such as pearls, gorgeous fish, strange beasts, unique fruit or flowers, water with magical properties, and the like, which can inspire and excite those prepared to engage in potentially dangerous quests.

Not, the Haaienvermijders were quick to qualify, exploration as such. Dathan has little interest in maps, apparently, and argues that they "pin down" the imagination in a way that is contrary to cultivating true wonder. Rather they want individuals to go to remote places and bask in the amazing experiences they can have there. Which as one of the Shark Dodgers said a little long-sufferingly, makes them utterly useless from a trade point of view. Having a patron that wants you to go somewhere amazing that has (for example) an exotic new breed of fruit that will be very much in demand if you bring it back home, but who actively opposes any effort to initiate a trade route to that location, can be a major pain in the backside. I think they were speaking from personal experience.

That is not to say that the Delves considers them useless - but the Haaienvermijders urged caution in dealing with them despite their apparently positive aspect. There are only a few areas where their power and influence is valuable, according to the Delves. Their focus on wonder means they can sometimes offer boons that help mortals overcome fear or despair, at the cost of perhaps pushing them too far in the other direction. Their fascination with beauty and natural wonders means that they can sometimes be prevailed on to help gain access to rare plants, precious stones, or similar wonders but only where they believe people will appreciate their beauty and inspiration rather than mine them and make a fortune.

Their focus on the imagination means they often serve as patrons for artists and poets, especially those arts that involve creating uplifting and optimistic stories, offering small boons related to dream and wonder. There was also talk of a ritual created with the aid of Dathan that appeared quite similar to Sift the Dreamscape's Sands but rather then bringing shifting dreams of jungles, it inspires dreams of wonderful sea voyages or undersea adventures, but specifically empowers the magician's mastery of Night magic alone. It is apparently well known among practitioners of Night magic in the Delves, while Sift the Dreamscape's Sands seems to be largely unknown despite being somewhat more versatile.

In character they and their heralds are apparently nerve-shreddingly optimistic, upbeat, positive, hopeful, and joyous. They love wonderful things, and go out of their way to encourage other people to share that joy. The consensus of the Haaienvermijders is that they are pleasant enough to deal with from time to time, but the boons they can provide are often not worth the effort it takes to get hold of them.

They're also a little unpredictable, even for a Night eternal. One of them told a cautionary tale about the Wonderverkopers - the "Miracle Sellers". This guild became wealthy selling some materials introduced to them by Dathan as recreational narcotics, as well as a small number of marvellous dream rituals developed with the patronage of the eternal (which to my mind sounded a bit like Octavius of Auric Horizon's Ride the Noble Steed) After a time, though, they became greedy and started placing more and more demands on Dathan, and apparently paying lip service to the eternal's goal of inspiring and bringing joy and wonder to drab lives.

At one point, during a meeting of the now wealthy members of the previously underdog guild, to discuss a potential play for the Seat of the Buidelrat, something went horribly wrong. The guild members themselves were eventually discovered sealed in their meeting chambers sound asleep. They remained asleep from that day onwards. Examination by a profession vloekprik - an expert in curses - determined that they were all enjoying truly amazing dreams of wealth, power, and indulgence that would last for the rest of their lives. Breaking the curse was apparently too expensive, and so the surviving members of the guild had them moved to a nice hospice in the marshes where they each lived out several more decades of endless, wonderful dreams. How true this tale is I cannot say for sure, but the Haaienvermijders certainly seemed to believe it so...

I asked if the Haaienvermijders knew any reason why Dathan might not have spoken with the Empire in any formal capacity. They weren't able to answer directly but "made enquiries" - they certainly knew some other covens of magicians who had closer ties with Dathan then they themselves did. My studies took me elsewhere, but shortly before I was due to quit the Delves and return to Sarcophan, my former guide came to see me with some news. They had spoken with a magician who engaged in the practice of dream trading - a combination magician and pharmaceuticalist such as one is only likely to find in the Delves I wager - who had a way to speak with heralds of Dathan. According to this slightly unsavoury individual, Dathan avoids anything to do with Imperial citizens for two reasons.

The first is the activity of the Crew of Sodden Trains - which we both agreed was probably the Whisper Gallery - who apparently loathes Dathan for sharing secret and hidden things with people. A more serious concern however was something the herald called the "Lantern Shark". As near as my Shark Dodger friend was able to make out, there is a creature of the Night realm that Dathan's herald describes as having the features of a rare deep-water fish that uses a lure to draw curious fish toward it so it can feast on them, and a monstrous shark.

I confessed I had no idea what this was about, and my guide ventured that it might be that Dathan is in opposition to a more forthright, dangerous eternal of the Night realm that also deals in dreams and that they (Dathan) believe it to have enough of a claim over Imperial magicians that the Sailor on the Skerries does not wish - or is unable - to intrude. This is, as my companion ruefully noted, an eternal that is most likely to run away from any conflict and convince itself that it never happened, or spend the next few years daydreaming about how it might have gone differently, than to actually have a fight with anyone or anything.

Maw of Stone

The Maw of Stone is a common name in the Delves for the destructive eternal of Spring the Empire calls Siakha.

After spending several weeks with the mercantile magicians of the Haaienvermijders, I was hosted for a very pleasant fortnight at the home of the occult scholar Mina Luister. While not actually a magician herself, in her prime she was well paid to serve as an intermediary between folk of the Delves and the eternals, having dedicated her life to studying everything she could about the creatures and their heralds. A true professional, she nonetheless told me many tantalising stories of deals struck, dangerous bargains, hair-raising negotiations, and in one case, a desperate swim through underwater ruins pursued by a hunting carcharadon.

This latter brought us naturally to a discussion of the Mother of Storms who the folk of the Delves variously call Red Squid, Maw of Stone, and occasionally the Chewer. The former is a reference to the kraken, while the latter two names speak of certain maritime phenomena where a whirlpool or waterspout becomes entangled with loose boulders and razor sharp pieces of coral that can shred hull, sail, or skin with equal aplomb.

Whereas the Sarcophan are likely to treat other eternals with the same laissez faire attitude they do foreign nations and merchants visiting their shores, this is not the case with Siakha. The eternal is seen as a figure of awe, or even terror. She represents the horrors of the ocean - not the unknown or theoretical horrors of the great deeps but the well-known and yet still unpredictable horrors of nature at its wildest. Storms, of course, but also those calms that can leave a ship stranded as the crew slowly go mad from thirst and the sun. Mighty beasts of the deep, for sure, but also the smaller creatures such as termites and poison crabs or deadly jellyfish. The Delves are particularly vulnerable to the machinations of the Mother of Storms, being both a maritime nation and one whose largest city lies along a coast parts of which are prone to flooding.

One bright morning my hostess prevailed on me to join her for a sedan chair ride out to the western docks. I was not enamoured of the sedan chair - while Mina reassured me several times it was a service like any other I felt there was something a little... unvirtuous... about paying other people to carry you around in luxury. Mistress Luister found it amusing at first but became a little waspish over time, and I was at pains to explain that it was not a judgement just a feeling. Apparently it is quite common for wealthier Sarcophan to travel by such a means, allowing them to avoid the mud and dirt that accumulates in the lower parts of the city. One can always tell a wealthy Sarcophan, they say, because their hems are clean.

Anyway, the reason for the sedan chair ride was to see a small wonder she called De Negenendertig Tanden - the Thirty-Nine Teeth. I'd seen one of them while arriving at the Delves and I presume many of my fellow Imperials who make a regular journey here already know something of them but Mina was able to give me their entire history. Not buoys as I had originally thought, they are thirty-nine columns of white granite inlaid with mithril and ilium that form a somewhat ragged fence across the bay overlooked by the central towers of the Delves. A great work of engineering, one that took the focus of the entire Beggar's Feast a little over two centuries ago, and required several seasons to complete, these teeth fundamentally weaken the servants of Siakha who might try to attack Sarcophan. Even those with powerful boons from the eternal might find themselves uncomfortable visiting the Delves - something Mina considered a point of pride. Pirates are not really welcome here, after all.

I expressed amazement at the sheer majesty of the work and she was more than happy to boast about the political wrangling that was needed to get the Teeth built. The Teeth also discourage the larger and more predatory beasts of the ocean approaching too close - it is one reason that Sarcophan has not had a recorded kraken attack in two hundred years. From time to time foolish servants of the Maw of Stone make an attempt to weaken or breach the cordon, but there is a dedicated naval force that protects the Teeth supported by magicians versed in battlefield magic with experience fighting the heralds of Siakha and so far they have prevented unnatural threats to the city.

Mina did explain, however, that this fence against Siakha was partially made possible by the assistance of a certain being of the Day realm, and as we took a pleasant tea in one of the towers looking out across the bay, she explained a little about Guathier, Lord of the Winds.

Lord of the Winds

Guathier is one of the Hierarchs of Sea and Sky, and strongly associated with weather and the sea.

Many of the eternals of the Day realm, the Hierarches of Sea and Sky, have a connection to the idea of the sea. Leviathan famously swims in the depths of a vast ocean that spreads across the entire realm. Zakalwe, Ylenwe, and Roshanwe each have their personal realms on the surface of that endless sea, while the domain of Phaleron is built on coral islands and rises high into the air, and deep into the waters. Kimus and Sinokenon meanwhile have their demesnes high above, in the sky over the eternal mirror-like sea. Guathier, Lord of the Winds is closer to the latter than the former, but nonetheless is counted by the Sarcophan as an eternal of the sea.

Unlike many eternals, Guathier does not collect names; the only other two commonly used in Sarcophan are Who-Sees-The-Wind and Windwinder. She takes the form of a great bird, similar to an albatross - to my mind the depictions are very similar to those I have seen of the Imperial Albatross of the cliffs of Ventosi in Redoubt. Their feathers are translucent white, with light blue markings, and it is said that when she is in flight they glow with the light of the sun so bright it is impossible for a mortal to look on them without going blind.

Guathier is associated both with the wind, and with the currents of the sea - which her heralds describe as being very similar things seen from different perspectives in different mediums. She observes the flows of wind, and is said to be able to shape the wind and the currents of the sea. Mostly this power is drawn on to quell storms and bad weather of that nature - there are notes about a ritual boon offered by Guathier that provides significant protection to naval forces from the effect of cursed storms for example.

It seems as well that her fascination with currents, with the movement of air and water, makes her something of a prognosticator. Guathier is fascinated with the way that the smallest action can result in significant changes to the way events unfold, just as a rock in the path of a river can divert its flow in ways that are hard to predict. If Leviathan looks at the present that arises from the past, Guathier is concerned with the future that may arise from the present.

There is clearly more to this eternal than I was able to glean in my short discussion with Mina, and she was unable to introduce me to any magicians that deal extensively with her or her heralds. As to why she is not known in the Empire, Mina could not offer any particular guidance although we did discuss the possibility that the Empire's use of curses that inflict bad weather such as Foam and Spittle of the Furious Sea and Thunderous Deluge might have some influence on her opinion of our magicians.

Polyptoton

The City of Salt and Sail is a mobile city that traverses the seas of the Autumn realm.

Shortly before my time with Mina was due to come to an end, she introduced me to a Sarcophan cambion magician with the delightful name of Jaan van Daan. Jaan makes a living dispatching messages and packages across the Known World through the auspices of Autumn magic, and numbers everyone from Bedelaar Huisbaas, through religious leaders, to fellow magicians among their clients. A true independent, it is likely that if you have received a winged messenger from the Delves it is Jaan van Daan that has sent it. Or at least so they themselves claim; but they certainly have the wealth and lifestyle to make me believe their claims.

Mina introduced me to Jaan specifically to talk about the Sovereign-Lord of the City of Salt and Sail, with whom we understood the Archmage of Autumn had recently become acquainted. The name used by Jaan van Daan is Polyptoton; the Sarcophan said that this is the name of the eternal itself, which takes the form of an immense turtle-like creature upon whose back the city is built. I'm not sure how I feel about the idea of a turtle the size of Sarvos (conservatively; the Autumn realm inevitably claims that their cities are significantly larger than any in the mortal realm) but Jaan was insistent. The being itself goes by any number of names, and is also known as Saratan and Archeloni, while the city itself is known as the Wandering City, the Port Of No Storm, and Mirabilis.

Over a course of the stickiest sweets I have ever encountered in my life, Jaan shared some of his understanding of the City of Salt and Sail, and its connection to the "winged messengers" that are arguably the backbone of international diplomacy and trade. It seems that the invisible bird-like creatures associated with the spell - whatever precise form it takes in the various lands where it is practiced - are most commonly drawn from immense rookeries that ride on the back of Polyptoton. The rituals themselves don't draw on the power of the city itself, but in most cases they have been developed with the assistance of heralds that call it home. I mentioned that I had heard of magic items that could call up messengers as well, but Jaan was unable to explain how they might work.

Regardless, the people of the City of Salt and Sail feel a certain responsibility to the messengers - which are apparently not invisible in the Autumn Realm as they are in the mortal realm. When a messenger is unable to deliver their letter, or their package, it apparently causes them some distress and the heralds of the Infinite Rookery intercede to deal with the problem. Jaan van Daan was at pains to tell me that this is the only time the heralds of Polyptoton read such messages - otherwise it is a point of pride for them to remain as neutral supporters of communication around the world as possible.

Beyond these rituals, the City of Salt and Sail is concerned with two key resonances of the Autumn realm - travel and communication. While they have some interest in trade, this is true of all the eternals of the Autumn realm so far encountered, to one degree or another. For Polyptoton, however, the key element of trade is that it relies on the transportation of both goods and ideas over distance. Salt, according to the heralds of the city, is key to the entire development of trade in the mortal world. Once traders are able to travel effectively down rivers and across the seas, they can transport great quantities of goods faster and more efficiently, to markets where they are unknown. Likewise, salt forms the basis of preservation of many perishable goods, allowing them to be transported further and still be viable trade goods. This metaphor puts one in mind of the arguments that the merchants of Ephisis make about "Gold" and "Lead" - a central allegory that underpins some of their claims without really meaning anything.

The city has a strong connection to ships and boats, and Jaan van Daan told me that they are the eternal to speak to in the Autumn realm - or any other - about facilitating the movement of such. Zartan doesn't limit itself solely to maritime concerns, however, having some interest in the movement of people and vehicles overland. They are not a particularly martial city, but their insight may still prove useful when moving armies or navies over distance. One of the (several) things that apparently piqued the interest of Polyptoton with regard to the Empire was the increasing use by Imperial magicians of the Find the Best Path ritual in recent years.

Their enthusiasm for communication, says Jaan, has some key differences to that of the eternal Lashonar with which Imperial magicians are perhaps more familiar. Lashonar brings people together so that they can speak face-to-face. Its Caucus Forum is a perfect example of how it sees communication - a chance for disparate folk to come together to share ideas, able to deploy their insight and intuition to evaluate the people they are speaking to, using emotion and subtlety to control the ebb and flow of words. The citizens of the City of Salt and Sail are not averse to people speaking to each other but they are much more excited about the written word. Not only letters, but also the myriad other ways that things written down can communicate (and perhaps even exert influence over readers). They certainly have demonstrated the ability to arrange meetings, but like the Sovereign Lord of the City of Bridges they are likely to require a steep price for doing so. Where they shine is in their ability to get a letter to, in theory, anyone anywhere in the world.

Khobel Tavah and More

Khobel and Tavah are the worst fear of sailors and those they leave behind. They are the drowned and the sea that drowns.

After a pleasant afternoon spent in the company of Jaan van Daan, I finished my time with Mina by visiting some old colleagues of hers. The Stillegolf are a small coven who these days are apparently mostly retired. The four of them met with me in their apartments - a series of large open rooms at the top of one of the teetering towers of Sarcophan. We met at night, among candles, and I feel that decision was in part to ensure they presented their home in the best light. It was clear to me that their glory days are behind them, but I have no doubt that they knew it themselves, and knew I knew. In spite of that, the quartet of elderly draughir were engaging dinner companions and we spoke long into the night about the King of Nowhere and the Queen of the Vast.

Salt in the Lungs and the Prophet of the Last Light are known in the Delves but they are kept carefully at arms length by most of the wizards here. One of the Stillegolf, a droll fellow named Marta Kjirik with a poetic turn of phrase, described them thus: "they are the deep oceans, the water you don't know, with rocks beneath the surface that you cannot see. They are the fear of the becalmed sailor, of the captain who sees the storm approaching that she knows her ship will not survive, the dread of being far from shore and feeling your vessel shift beneath your feet as it begins to take on water. They are the fraying of ropes, and the ripping of canvas, and the doomsong pealing in the depths, where no bells should be."

I can tell you now that, sat in that dark cavernous room full of faded splendour, with candles flickering and my hosts all staring at me unblinking, Marta's words sent a shiver down my spine and I heard the echo of one of my ancestors urging me to get out of there as fast as possible before they ate me. I squared my shoulders and persevered, however.

One of the other draughir, Irta Covesaar, told a story of Khobel Tavah in her heavily accented Imperial that one of their heralds allegedly came to the people of Umshalla, the folk who occupied the Delves before the Sarcophan, and offered a warning of three dooms: chaos, war, and plague. The Diarchs of Parralenth, Elam and Orpa, refuted each of the claims of the herald in turn and cast the doomsayer from their court. They truly believed that their people could weather any storm that might come. Within a handful of years, the Diarchs were dead, the nation had been riven with chaos, civil war burned in the streets, and the final plague had begun to spread.

The tale might be apocryphal, but it led to a discussion that the Two-Who-Are-One are among the least unpredictable of the eternals the Stillegolf dealt with in their time. They do what they say, and there is little ambiguity with them. When they warn, their warning should be taken seriously because their words are never idle. They can also be drawn on to provide protection to ships at sea, which is one of the services the Stillegolf specialised in. They employed enchantments called Sails of the Last City which was invaluable to mercenary vessels employed to guard trade fleets, and Ward of Last Light which granted sailors preternatural fortitude and prevented death at sea for a time.

The third member of the coven, the old guildmaster Pieter Covesaar explained that the ritual texts they had used were sold off years ago, but they showed me several old boons from the Old Man and the Sea. These battered looking foci appeared to have been taken from sunken wrecks, marked by decades of exposure to salt water, but were nonetheless sturdy. Their magical potency had long since leeched from them, but careful examination showed that they had once held powers that allowed ritual magicians to more easily weave spells of preservation and survival that were quite intriguing.

It was while we were leaving that the last surviving member of the coven, Sjaak Kjikik spoke up for the first time, discoursing on the matter of fear, and while I didn't know it at the time my visit was about to take a peculiar tangent. I had made some off-hand comment about fear of drowning, and Sjaak had corrected me. He spoke in tones more suited to a professor lecturing at the Diora, but his expression was scarily intense and his eyes flickered gold and red in the candleflames. He explained that there are two forms of fear, and the Winter eternals represent the more wholesome of the two. The fears the Winter eternals exemplify are rational fears - it is right that people fear drowning because it is a horrible way to die, one that is always waiting just behind the shoulder of anyone who owes their lives to the water. The fear of hunger, of making bad decisions, of the ending that comes with death, of pain, of suffering, are all sensible fears. Yet there is another kind of fear that has nothing to do with reason or good sense. For that kind of fear one must look elsewhere - to the Hongerigespin and to Ungholt, the Delerium King.

Hongerigespin and Ungholt

Ungholt the Delerium King spreads madness and terror, and twists the dreams of sleeping mortals into terrible shapes.

Mina looked quite concerned when he mentioned these two, and saw my questioning expression. We sat back down again and Sjaak gave a quick explanation. These were not eternals of the Winter realm, but of Night. He did not talk much about Hongerigespin apart from to say that it was a creature that devoured everything that made a person a person and brought the kind of living death which ate the entire person but left their body behind. Irta tried to interject that the creature also had useful powers over obfuscation and concealment, but even she had to agree that the boons were never worth it given the price. Mina kept trying to catch my eye during this exchange and communicate nonverbally, and on top of that one of my ancestors was growling very loudly in my left ear, and so I did not take much in.

On the subject of Ungholt, the Delirium King, however, Sjaak was much more voluble, seemingly to the chagrin of his three covenmates. Apparently this creature appears as a figure without a face, in a hooded robe. It may also appear as the most terrifying image drawn from the nightmares of those who see them. There is no lesson in the fear brought by the Delirium King, only madness and death. Sjaak began to twitch as he spoke, getting more and more agitated, until Marta brought out a particular deep green liquor and made him down a small glass of it to bring back his calm.

I had to check twice that the Delirium King was a creature of the Night realm, and not the Winter realm, but Sjaak was adamant and the others nodded silent agreement. He then explained that Delirium King is the lord of nightmare, madness, and fear made manifest. It is actually tangentially associated with my commission which is why I mention it here. Where most of the other domains of the Night realm are said to be forests, Ungholt dominates a land of mud and water, creeping mist, and unnatural trees called the Mire of Madness. It is drawn to places where people have drowned, and apparently finds the desperate struggles of someone unable to escape water or quicksand to be delightful music. Given that much of the land in and around the Delves is marshland, I could immediately see why the creature was relevant to the Sarcophan. Also, its tangential connection to water led me to believe that it might be relevant to the wider commission.

Marta broke in at this point to stress again that there is no wisdom in the fear Ungholt brings. They are simply a prison, one that eventually breaks the mind of their victims and leaves them unable to tell reality from dreadful fantasy. Its servants move in nightmare, apparently, allowing them to attack sleeping minds and remove the ability to rest. It can also bring weakness and a fear so terrible it paralyses those exposed to it, allegedly with a simple touch or terrible music.

It was around this point that I started to notice that the candles had mostly gone out. We are huddled together around the low table, scattered with the remnants of our supper, hunched forward while Sjaak rambled about nightmare and madness, sucking quagmire, and drifting lights that fed on the souls of the despairing, our shadows seeming to be dreadful giants leaning forward above and around us. It put me in mind of some of the stories I had heard from soldiers fighting in Zenith and Ossium, and so I interjected and quickly described the Druj miasma. Might Ungholt be involved in such a thing?

The draughir magicians asked several probing questions, and the more answers I gave the more certain they became that the Delirium King could not be responsible. The Druj miasma and its pillars have laid over the Mallum for generations - Sjaak was adamant that any extended exposure to the power of Ungholt on such a scale could bring only madness and death. Whatever the miasma is, it is not a thing of the Night Realm. Yet they cautioned that it is the kind of thing that would delight Ungholt, would draw his attention like flies to a rotting corpse. An entire people oppressed by auras of fear, dread, and despair would be a feast for Ungholt and its servants. I was initially a little sceptical, but the more I thought on it the more I came to agree with them. If the miasma of the Mallum was a thing of the realms we would have known about it decades ago. And I must stress, the four of them were in agreement that exposure to the power of Ungholt for an extended period of time would break the spirit and the mind to the point that nobody - Druj or their septs - would be able to function in any way.

When Sjaak left to answer the call of his bladder, Pieter quickly explained that there was a reason that Sjaak was so impassioned, and why they were certain that the eternal was not behind this "miasma" I spoke of. Twenty years ago the Stillegolf ran afoul of a coven of magicians who drew on the boons of Ungholt. The coven dwelled outside the city in the swamps along the Umshalla river, and had come to the attention of the Delves' coven because they were terrorising Sarcophan ship captains who relied on their warding magic for protection. The ensuing "wizards war" went in favour of the Stillegolf, not least because they were able to call in favours from several of the maritime associations they had worked with, and because they were able to draw on soldiers from the Grim Legion of the Maiden of Midnight. Despite this, the fight left two of their number - including Sjaak's husband - trapped in eternal nightmare slumber, and Sjaak on the verge of madness after six months of awful waking visions.

While Pieter spoke, Irta lit more candles and unshrouded a dim lightstone, and when Sjaak returned from his call of nature the subject was changed and Mina and I thanked our hosts and left. Sjaak had the last word - he warned that I should not seek to learn much more about Ungholt, and should definitely not seek to attract its attention. If the Empire is not of interest to the Delirium King, they should thank their good fortune and perhaps spare a moment to think compassionately of those in the Delves who are not so lucky.

Mina and I travelled back to my apartments in silence, and I confess that when I finally slept that night my dreams were tormented by the image of a black hooded spectre and an increasingly unhinged Sjaak hunting me through the streets of Gildenheim, dream-warped such that they were overwhelmed with terrible, stinking swamps.

Conclusion

When I awoke, slathered in sweat, it turned out that it was not just the unsettling tales of the Stillegolf that were responsible for my disturbed night. I had, despite all my best efforts, managed to pick up some awful sickness of the bowels native to the Sarcophan Delves. If I had one piece of advice to give any of my colleagues considering spending time in the Delves it would be to boil the water before you drink it. I spent a week alternating between weeping and hunched over, and writhing wrapped in sweat-soaked bedsheets.

Several of the magicians I had met sent small tokens of consolation, and I can only thank the physician provided by Bedelaar Huisbaas Annike who dosed me every six hours with a preparation of boiled water and bladeroot. With her assistance, my fever eventually broke and I regained control of my bowels. Two days later, I was leaving the Delves, with a new appreciation of how wide and complicated the world really is. Despite my illness, I think my time in Sarcophan was well spent and I would happily return.

I spent most of the journey back across the Sea of Teeth and the Bay of Catazar compiling my notes into this travelogue, which I hope will prove of interest. My recommendation would be that the Minister think carefully about how best to present this information to the rest of the Empire. Especially the Conclave who can, sometimes, leave themselves open to criticism when it comes to their enthusiasm for seeking out new creatures of the realms.

While several of those mentioned here seem harmless, some of them may certainly present hidden dangers. I'll leave my final point as an paraphrase of something Mina Luister said to me over spiced cakes. Sometimes it is a blessing to avoid the gaze of the powerful, especially when their desires are unpredictable.

It scans better in Sarcophan, I suppose.

Further Reading

• Eternal
• Sarcophan Delves